Sacrifice
by DeBrabant
Summary: A stranger takes Angel's place on the blade during Becoming...but just who was he? And why did he do it?


Sacrifice   
by Danii  
  
Buffy pulled back the sword to strike. She  
didn't want to do this; God, she didn't want to do  
this. To have him come back, only to send him into  
eternal torment. But it was that, or have the world  
sucked head-first into hell.   
God, she didn't want to do this.  
"Close your eyes"  
God, she didn't want to do this.  
She could hear a voice. It spoke in a language  
which she didn't know. It was pleasent enough, but  
unfamiliar, so she didn't give it any notice.   
God, she didn't want to do this.   
She put her head down.  
A blur.   
Buffy plunged the sword into Angel. Tears ran  
down her face, and she raised her head to get a last  
look at the one she loved. But to Buffy's great  
surprise, it was not Angel into which she had plunged  
the sword, but a tall, blonde man. The man smiled, a  
sad smile, as Buffy stepped back to look around. On  
the ground next to the stranger was Angel, nursing a  
cut in his arm, who looked up at Buffy.  
"What..." Buffy began, but stopped when she saw  
a light. The light was brightening just above the  
unknown man, and the man, despite the sword in him,  
looked up.  
"Natalie?" asked the man. It was then that  
Buffy realized that it was his voice she had heard  
speaking only a few moments before. Buffy and Angel  
both stood spellbound watching the man, the light, and  
the portal.  
"Yes, Nick" issued a pleasant, female voice from  
the light, "You've earned your place here. You earned  
it long ago, my knight. Come now."  
"Yes" answered the man who was obviously Nick,  
and then a spasm of pain hit him from the portal to  
hell behind him. But just as it seemed he would be  
sucked into the wormhole, a light left his body and  
joined the one above him. The eyes of the man, once a  
sapphire blue, went blank and white as the light left,  
then the body was sucked down into hell. The portal  
disappeared, as did the light, and Buffy and Angel  
were left, shaken, but alive.  
  
"What-" began Buffy, but Angel shushed her as he  
stood up.  
"Let's just be grateful" Angel said, walking  
over to her, "Yes, I've remembered what happened. I  
am so sorry..."  
It was at that point that Angel embraced her.   
Buffy returned the embrace gratefully, holding onto  
him for dear life for fear that she would fall down  
from sheer exaustion.  
"But, who was he?" asked Buffy, pulling her head  
up to look at Angel's face, "Do you know who he was?"  
"I didn't get a good look, but there was  
something familiar about him. I might have seen him,  
but I can't remember where." Angel's look of  
wondering turned to a smile, "But, I wish I could  
thank him. For all he has given me back."  
At that point Angel's mouth met Buffy's in a  
kiss, which they continued for a bit. When they both  
came up for air, Buffy asked.  
"Can we get out of here? I'd really like to see  
how Xander and Giles are doing."  
Angel was nonplussed for a minute, but then  
remembered.  
"I forgot all about them! Yes, we'd better find  
them. Make sure they're all right!" Angel answered,  
starting to make for the exit. But as he walked over,  
he tripped on something lying on the floor.  
"What the-"  
Buffy walked over and picked up the item Angel  
had tripped on. It was a set of keys, with a note  
attached. Bufy read it out loud.  
"Green caddy outside. Check the trunk if you  
want answers"  
Buffy looked to Angel. Angel shrugged and held  
his hands out for the keys. Buffy handed them over,  
and put her arm around Angel, whose own arm had  
already healed.   
"Let's go home."  
  
  
When they got outside, they found Xander and  
Giles (well, mostly Giles) resting on the very car the  
note was about. Both men looked up when they heard  
the foot steps, and both tensed up when they saw  
Angel.  
"Is he evil?" Xander asked, with his usual  
intellegence and tact.  
"What do you think, Xander?" answered Buffy,  
hugging Angel even closer to her.  
"Just checking" answered Xander, ignoring or  
perhaps entirely missing the note of anger in Buffy's  
voice. Buffy then diengaged from Angel and walked  
over to Giles, who looked to be in a bad way.  
"You okay?" she asked simply, her hand resting  
lightly on his shoulder in the event that he should be  
injured there.  
"I am fine, Buffy" Giles said, waving her  
concern away, "However, to be honest, I don't believe  
I will be able to walk all the way."  
Buffy smiled. "You won't have to. We happen to  
have the keys to the car you're sitting on. Well,  
actually, Angel has the keys"  
The terror that had found it's way to Giles  
battered face at the idea of Buffy driving erased  
itself quickly. Curiousity took over.  
"And how did you aquire those?" asked the  
Watcher.  
"The owner saved me" answered Angel, "He took  
the sword instead of me. His body was sucked into  
hell to stop the world from being sucked in."  
"But how is that possible? Only the blood of the  
one who opened it..."  
As Giles spoke, Angel looked at the cut on his  
arm. Perhaps what Angel had thought was a slight  
mistake was actually a highly important, calculated  
part of the stranger's plan.  
"The guy was saying something in Latin before I  
tried to stab Angel..." Buffy injected.  
Giles looked at both Buffy and Angel. "It is  
possible that he transfered the...whatever... to  
himself to the point where only the blood, and not the  
death, of he who opened it was needed."   
Angel nodded. That made sense.   
"But who would VOLUNTEER to be stabbed and sent  
to hell in Angel's place!?" Again, Xander astounded  
everyone with his lack of tact. Buffy figured it must  
have rubbed off from Cordelia.  
Angel pulled out the keys and showed the two  
others the note.   
"Let's find out..."  
  
  
Giles, who was more curious that hurt, got up  
from the bumper so that Angel could open the trunk.   
Angel slipped the key in as soon as the Watcher got  
up, and turned it. Almost surprisingly, it worked.   
The trunk mechanism was obviously well taken care of,  
for some reason, and didn't require any further effort  
to open it.  
Inside the opened trunk was some packages,  
ranging in size from that which could contain a  
toaster to that which could comfortably hold a decent  
sized television. On top of the parcels, was a  
manilla envelope with the words "Read me first"  
scribbled upon it. Angel reached in and took the  
envelope.   
All were focused upon Angel as he opened the  
manilla envelope to find a large bundle of papers. A  
sticky note on the top of the stack had a few  
directions. It read:  
"If you are reading this, then you must be alive  
and moderately well. The contents of this are very  
important. I think it would be better if you drove  
the car to the hospital and read it all together with  
the others, Cordelia, Willow, and Oz. You can take  
the car, as I stated above. The gas tank is full.   
Safe driving."  
  
Xander, who had been reading over Angel's  
shoulder, even though the vampire had been reading  
aloud, was impressed.  
"Wow" he said with an impressed 'huh', "This guy  
had it ALL planned out."  
Giles gave him a withering look.  
"Let's just get in the car and find out who the  
bloody hell this person was!" exclaimed the Watcher.  
Buffy and Xander agreed and piled in. Angel  
waited so as to help Giles into a seat. He then  
plopped into the driver's seat.   
"Angel" Xander asked, a hint of fear in his  
voice, "How long since you last drove?"  
Angel gave him a disgusted look. "Two weeks"  
Buffy was surprised. "In what?"  
"In a car, in MY car!" exclaimed Angel, "I do  
have a car. It's a '63 like this one, but black.   
Great trunk space in one of these. I use it to hide  
when I get caught out in the day. Just open the  
trunk, hop in, and fall asleep until dark. I'd be  
surprised to find that no other vampires do it."  
  
"So, you're saying, some guy just pushed Angel  
aside, took a sword to the heart, got sucked into  
hell, and he left you a car?"  
That would be Cordelia. The little group had  
arrived 5 minutes before, and upon entering, explained  
the whole story.  
"And the spell worked?" asked Willow from her  
hospital bed, "He got his soul back?"  
"Well, Angel hasn't tried to tear our throats  
out, so I'm guessing it worked..." answered Buffy.  
"Wow" gasped Willow, "I did it."  
Buffy leaned over and hugged her wounded friend.   
  
"Yeah, Will. You did it."  
"So" exclaimed Xander, completely destroying the   
moment, "Let's check out the envelope!"  
"Indeed" said Giles.  
Angel handed the envelope to Giles, who opened it  
gently and pulled out the large bunch of papers  
within. His first look went to the stationary.  
"DeBrabant Foundation?" Giles asked to the  
general public, "Isn't that one of the largest private  
charity foundations in the world?"  
No one else had any idea what he was talking  
about, except for Angel.  
"Yes" he answered, "And didn't you mention to me  
that it also gave money to the Watchers?"  
"Right!" Giles said, "1 million a year towards  
our work. None of the Watchers ever knew why he would  
chose to do so, or even how Mr. DeBrabant knew of us."  
"Hmmm."  
"Yes. Anyway," the Watcher continued, "Let's  
get on with it and find out some more about our  
mystery man."  
Giles read the letter aloud:  
"My name is Nicholas DeBrabant. That is the  
name I was born with, and that is the name I wish to  
die with. If you are reading this, I am no longer in  
the land of the living, meaning everything worked  
correctly. You are probably wondering who I am, and  
why I would chose to do as I have done. All this will  
be explained in the following pages. I would guess  
that Mr. Giles would be reading it now, and if my  
guess is correct, I would wish that he would continue  
to read it till I state otherwise.   
"I will begin at the beginning. As I said  
before, I was born Nicholas DeBrabant, in the year of  
1196-"  
"1196?!?!" exclaimed Xander, "That isn't  
possible! That would make him 800 or something!"  
"I am sure he will explain in due time" said  
Giles, trying to quiet the boy, then he continued to  
read:  
"My home was in Belgium. My family ruled the  
duchy of Brabant. I was the first son of a brood of  
12, though 10 of these died from a sickness that swept  
through the area at the time. It left my youngest  
sister, mother, father, and myself. But I soon left,  
for I was required, as a man of stature, to train as a  
knight.  
"After I finished my training, I was sent with a  
missionary group to the land of the Celts, in an  
attempt to convert them to Christianity. However, I  
was also sent there for another reason. News of a  
young girl with immense talents in the arts of  
fighting had come to me, and I had to investigate, for  
I was, as you are Mr. Giles, a Watcher."  
  
There was considerable brow-raising at that last  
sentence, especially from Giles, whose look could not  
be described, but was akin to one worn by those who  
have found out that their new room mate is a psycho  
killer escaped from jail. Well, similar, but a little  
different.  
"A Watcher?" aksed Buffy, as if Giles had made up  
the last part as a joke, "You sure?"  
Rupert gave her a withering look. "That's what  
it says..."  
"Well then," said Xander anxiously,"let's move on  
instead of getting stuck on the Watcher thing, eh?"  
The entire room looked at Xander, but it was  
Buffy who actually voiced the group's thought.  
"That is the most intellegent thing you've said  
all day."  
Xander just gave her a dismissive glance and  
bobbed his head at Giles, urging him to move on.   
"I was, as my father was, a Watcher. I was  
ordered to find the girl, and if she turned out to be  
the Slayer, I was to be promoted to the place of  
active Watcher, an honor my family had had only once  
before.  
But on the way there, at one of the towns at which we  
were to spread the message of Jesus, I met a young  
woman names Gwyneth, with whom I fell in love.   
"She was a priestess of the Celts. We were two  
different types, but in love, we saw only the  
similarities. We weren't going to hurt anyone,  
merely run away together, but my commanding officer,  
who saw our affair as dangerous, killed her, and  
shifted the blame to me. As penance, I was sent to  
the Crusades, and for blowing my operation, I was put  
down on the list of Watchers. I fought for a year in  
the Crusades, was captured and held for two more, then  
was freed in the year 1228.   
"The higher ups in the Watchers needed me for  
something, for I was one of the only noble born  
Watchers, and sent for me to come to Paris. I was so  
overjoyed at seeing the city once more, my friends and  
I decided to celebrate. We went to one of the better  
inns and got completely drunk on the city's fine wine.  
It was at this time, a beautiful woman approached me  
and asked me this question, the question I have  
replayed in my mind so many times that I could never  
forget it. She asked me: 'How much do you want me?'  
"I never remembered what I answered, but it was  
definately something good, for she brought me to the  
back room. There we made love, as she whispered to me  
of power, youth, hunger, darkness, and the night.   
Then, almost as quickly as she came, she left. She  
returned however, with a man. His hair was  
white-blonde, short, and his eyes were like ice. He  
was tall, and commanding, as if he were the leader of  
a great army. He once had been. His name was  
LaCroix. Once a general of Caesar's army, it was he  
that made me what I am, or was: a vampire. He brought  
me across. He became my master that night, and it was  
at that point that my life became a living hell..."  
  
  
"Hmmm.."  
"Oh dear.."  
"Hmmm.."  
"Sucks for him..." The members of the little  
group gave their respective death looks to Xander, the  
speaker of this comment. When Xander got a clue and  
noticed the angry eyes on him, he nervously tittered,  
"Well, continue..."  
"Well, actually" said the Watcher as he removed  
his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "It requests here  
that Angel take over reading. Angel?"  
As Giles spoke this last part, he neatened the  
papers and held them out for the vampire to take.  
Angel solomnly took the bundle, and began  
reading. It went on for a while, for it told of  
Nick's life as a vampire. None in the group  
interrupted, not even Xander, as Angel read aloud the  
life of the vampire, no, the man, who had saved them  
from so much grief. And none knew weither it was the  
words themselves, or the way that Angel spoke them,  
but each was touched in some way. They all had felt  
as he had felt a some point.  
Buffy knew what it was like to be something she  
never wanted to be. She lived with being a Slayer  
everyday, without choice. Willow knew what it was  
like to be persecuted for being different. For  
believing things, and acting differently. Angel and  
Oz knew the pain of having a monster inside you, one  
that could hurt people, the people you loved, even if  
you didn't want to. Giles and Angel knew the pain of  
guilt from heinous acts which could never be washed  
away. And Xander, Xander knew the pain of abuse. Of  
abuse from a parent who was supposed to love you and  
protect you, but instead caused you pain and misery  
like no one else. Xander, the joker, who's only  
defense was to laugh, knew how that man had felt, and  
for 800 years no less, constantly trying to escape the  
pain, but always feeling a yearning to come back, to  
please, to submit the one who hurt him because, no  
matter what, he was your father.   
But, what balanced it, what obviously kept the  
man, no, Nicholas, from going insane, was his hope.   
His faith in a better tomorrow. That unbreakable  
confidance that it couldn't get any worse, only  
better. That he would find the answer. That he would  
find joy, and love, and happiness. That he would find  
a way out. And, as they reached page 21, it seemed as  
if Nicholas had found his happiness, at least to some  
degree.  
"I awoke on a slab in a morgue, hungry and in  
pain. I got up, much to the surprise of the young  
coroner who was to autopsy me, and took a plastic  
container of blood from the fridge. My fangs were  
bared and my eyes were glowing from the pain of the  
explosion. To my amazement, the young lady examiner  
didn't run. As I prepared to drink, she asked me what  
I was, and I replied simply that I was something much  
different than her. She approached me, tried to touch  
me, but I grabbed her hand. I then touched her hand  
to my cheek. The said I was cold. I replied that I  
was dead. She countered that I was not. I then  
hypnotized her, as I explained my kind can do, to make  
her forget me and what I was, then left.   
"A few nights later, I decided to test the little  
coroner. I brushed past her in the street. She  
didn't pass. She remembered. I told her she should  
forget. She didn't wish to. Then she did the most  
remarkable thing. Without fear, or requesting for  
payment, she offered to help me. And the world was  
turned upside down."  
  
"She decided to work on a cure for me. A cure for  
vampirism. But she also became my best friend. Her  
name was Natalie-"  
"That's the name!" Buffy exclaimed.  
"Of what?"  
"That's who he was talking to. The voice in the  
light!"  
Angel nodded. "Yeah, before he died, he called the  
name 'Nat' or 'Natalie'. I don't remember exactly,  
but I bet that's her. Notice the past tense..."  
"Go on" said Giles, obviously curious for the end of  
the man's tale.  
"Lambert. I worked in Toronto as a police detective,  
homicide division, for that time, so my frequent  
visits to the morgue were at least justifiable. It  
was one of the many jobs I had taken over the years,  
as you know, trying to atone for all  
the pain I had cause. And it seemed, that just maybe,  
I had been given a blessing. Her. She helped me so  
much, not just in looking for a cure, but making me  
see that I wasn't an evil monster. That I was  
seperate from the beast inside me. That there was  
hope. And then, gradually, we fell in love."  
"So, did he have the gypsy curse thingy you have,  
Angel?" interrupted Xander, "I mean, the whole thing  
sounds awful familiar..."  
Angel looked at Xander, disgusted. "Didn't you  
listen. His kind is different. They already have a  
soul. He explained the whole thing!"  
"You see," Buffy interjected at this point, "I still  
don't get this vamp-with-a-soul thing."  
"Let's try it again" said Giles with a sigh, "In the  
beginning, when a vampire was first created, it had a  
soul. It's first vampiric child, a sorceress of some  
power, did not want her actions as a vampire to affect  
the statis of her soul. And so she gave up some of  
her vampiric powers so that her soul would be judged  
then, instead of after she had been a vampire for  
some years, and replaced her soul with a demon. After  
that, all the vampires which she made were like her,  
souless and completely demonic. It was then that the  
Slayer was created."  
"And?"  
"Nicholas is the descendant of the first vampire,  
and if this testimony is correct, specifically the  
name of the master's master's master, then he just  
might have a very close relation indeed! All the  
other children of the first became like him, with  
those extra powers and complete with souls."  
"Whoa..."  
"Yes" he sighed once more, "'Whoa' indeed."  
"And his kind can do all that extra stuff? Flying?   
Hypnosis? That mind thing?"  
"That is what he claims..."  
"There are tons of that other type of vampire?"  
Giles simply glanced at her.  
Buffy looked at Angel. "Continue"  
"But we could never consumate, for if we did, then my  
master, LaCroix" Xander grimaced uncontiously "would  
kill  
her, or bring her across, and I didn't want that to  
happen to her. Not only that, but there was a chance,  
a very large chance, that I would loss my control  
during our act of love and kill her from bloodlust.   
I loved her far too much to let either happen. So we  
stayed platonic, much to the wonderment of our  
co-workers.   
"And we had our success and our pit-falls. I even  
found a cure for a day, but it was only a fix. It  
only suppressed the symptoms for so long, and it was  
highly addictive. But just as it seemed all hope was  
lost, my vampiric sister, Janette, of whom I have  
told, came to Toronto. She was trying to avenge the  
death of the man she had loved, a man who had saved  
her life in a fire. Surprisingly, that man had been a  
mortal. And even more surprisingly, she was mortal."  
  
"What!"  
Every set of eyes in the room turned and looked  
at Angel as if he had grown a third head.   
"That's what it says..." he defended, pointing  
at the paper, "She had become mortal."  
"Okay, okay, now this is wild!" Buffy exclaimed  
franticly, "Vampires can't turn back! The-they just  
can't!"  
"Read on, man, read on!" That was Giles, trying  
to find out the how and why of the situation.  
Angel nodded at Giles, then began where he had  
left off.  
"Through controled feeding from the man she  
loved, and a major trauma, she had regained mortality,  
the one thing I had wanted for so many years. She  
told me that, despite her prior teasing, that I had  
been right to search for mortality. However, due to  
circumstances concerning her revenge, I had to take  
away her mortality in order to save her life. I don't  
believe she ever forgave me...  
"After these events, there was more backsliding,  
as my control deteriorated and my love for Natalie  
grew. I knew I would have to move on soon, so that no  
one noticed I wasn't aging, and I was torn about  
bringing Natalie with me. But, it all came to a head  
one night, when Natalie told me that she couldn't wait  
any longer. She said that she loved me, and that if  
we didn't admit our love soon, it was over. She told  
me to try Janette's cure, to drink from her.  
"But, despite my love for her, I couldn't contain  
the beast inside of me, and I drank too much of her.   
My master, LaCroix" (another uncontiouse motion from  
Xander) "came then, telling me to bring her across. I  
said that I would not subject her to the hell I had  
tried to relieve myself of for the last 200 years.   
Then, I asked him to kill me. So that I could be with  
her in death.   
"I held her in my arms, her dying body still  
warmer than my own, and awaited the stake that would  
bring me to judgement. But it never came. And I had  
promised, once, never to commit suicide. So, I was  
stuck here, alone, and with nothing to guide me.  
"I had to move on, and I contacted the person who  
forges the documents. He told me that a good place  
would be California, not in LA, but a little town  
called Sunnydale. Said that there were always alot of  
houses open there to buy."  
"And the ancient Watcher was unaware that the  
little town is right on top of the hellmouth?" (do I  
need to tell you who this is? Or what happens  
afterward?)  
"Ahem. Now, I knew that the hellmouth was in  
Sunnydale. Any Watcher, undead or alive, worth his  
salt knows this. But, I saw his suggestion as a sign,  
a sign that this might be the way I could help the  
world again, through my Watcher roots. So I came to  
Sunnydale as Nicholas Fynn, and moved into a house  
near the school.   
"One night, as I was flying back to my home, I  
saw something strange going on in the library. It was  
late at night, and all the lights were on. Curious, I  
stopped, watched and listened. That's how I found out  
about all of you. And as soon as I realized the  
situation, I decided that my work would be to help  
you. So I did."  
"What? I don't remember seeing that guy before  
tonight!" Buffy exclaimed.  
Giles looked at Buffy, then at Angel. He didn't  
even have to say it any more.  
"I worked in secret, staying hidden. Your Slayer  
and Watcher senses don't pick up my kind. It's one of  
the reasons I ended up as I did. But I was there,  
picking up the extra bad guys when you wouldn't  
notice. Leaving strategically placed bookmarks for  
you. Things like that. I even bought The Bronze so  
that you would never be fined for property damage  
(that and so you always had a table) and used the  
profits to pay the school for it's damages. And I was  
reasonably happy with what I had done.   
"I was happy for Angel and Buffy, a couple  
similar to Natalie and myself. For Giles, who had  
conquered who he had been before. For Willow, who had  
become so much more vibrant. For Xander. For Oz. I  
watched and I worked, and I grew to know and love all  
of you from a distance. Then, when Angel lost his  
soul, I had to help you even more.  
"I'm so sorry I never saved Ms. Calender, Giles.   
I didn't know Angelus was after her, and for that, I  
am eternally sorry. But, despite how much it hurt to  
do the work now, I did it. Then came tonight.   
"I decided I was going to finally join Natalie  
this night, saving the world and your love in the  
process. I looked into my old books and found a  
shifting spell, that would shift the burden of  
sacrifice from Angel to myself. However, for the  
spell to work, I still needed Angel's blood to be on  
the blade. I worked it out in my mind. And now, I  
guess it worked if you are reading this. Nicholas De  
Brabant, Watcher, Crusader, Detective, Professor,  
Doctor, Sinner, is gone, finally dead. Thus ends my  
testamony. And I say to you all to never fear love,  
and be true to your feelings. Don't wait, and don't  
give up. "  
"That it?"  
"Well...wait, here's some more papers..."  
  
Epilogue  
  
Giles was fixing up the library. With all the spilt  
shelves and the such, there was a great deal to be  
done. Not to mention the new books. Nicholas, in his  
great kindness, had left Giles the entirity of his  
occult book collection, which was an admirable one.   
The ancient former Watcher had possessed books which  
were thought to be imaginary, books which hadn't been  
discovered, and a great deal of first editions. He'd  
already gotten a commendation for the "find" from the  
Watcher's Council, even when he explained the source.   
That had lead to even more praise, for findind a lost  
watcher. All in all, it hadn't been a bad week on the  
Hellmouth.  
  
Not that the money wasn't also a treat. DeBrabant had  
left each of them a sizeable chunk of his money,  
though the foundation still had the majority and  
continued it's charity work despite it's leader's  
demise. The leadership of the foundation had been  
left to Angel and an unknown banker. Giles wished the  
vampire luck with the work, and hoped that directing  
the charity would help Angel to get rid of some of his  
considerable guilt.   
  
They'd each been left things like that, things which  
fitted them, other than the money. Buffy had received  
a cross which had once belonged to Joan of Ark. It  
did quiet a wammy on the vampires, and seemed to work  
even better than a normal cross did. Xander had  
received DeBrabant's car, and a duck lamp which  
obviously had sentamental value. Xander took to both,  
and wouldn't let anyone move the lamp from it's sacred  
spot at his seat in the library. Willow now had  
several more artifacts, spellbooks, and other such  
things than she had had before, and her boyfriend, Oz,  
had received a entertainment/sound system which the  
werewolf assured them was the finest money could buy.   
Not to mention the motorcycle. Cordy had gotten a  
number of dresses and the phone numbers of several  
exclusive designers, which a note attached had assured  
were genuine and gotten from "a trusted friend". All  
in all, a very good week.  
  
It was just as he was inserting "Rodgetter's Spotting  
Guide for Fyarl Demons" that Giles felt an itch. It  
was the sort of dangerous itch one usually gets  
between the shoulder blades, but this one seemed  
focused on his neck. Moving very slowly to disguise  
the grabbing of a stake, Giles turned around.  
  
Standing a few feet away was a stranger. He certainly  
wasn't a student. The man was dressed in a black  
Armani suit, which was held at the neck by a silver  
dagger pin. The face above the suit was pale and  
hard, and contained two gleaming pieces of blue ice  
where one usually finds eyes. His hair was cut short,  
and was only slightly more pale than his face. The  
stranger waited a second before speaking.  
  
"Are you Mister Rupert Giles?" he asked in a smooth  
voice which rang with control.  
  
"Yes" answered Giles as he stood. He kept the stake  
behind his back, but managed to look calm.   
  
"Pleased to meet you. My name is Lucien LaCroix. I  
am sure Nicholas informed you of who, and what I am?"  
  
"Indeed he did, sir" replied Giles, trying to keep  
his cool. If what the man said was true, he was  
dealing with a 2000 year old master vampire. His  
survival chances were similar to that of a lemming, or  
rather, a lemming within 2 feet of a cliff. "And if  
you are what you say you are, sir, I doubt that  
meeting you is a pleasure. At least that is what I  
have found."   
  
The man who called himself LaCroix laughed. "Please  
stop with that piece of wood behind your back. If I  
wanted you dead, you would be dead. I am here to talk  
only. I don't want anything from you or anyone in  
this hellhole."  
  
"Hellmouth."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Alright" said Giles after a moment. He dropped the  
stake to the floor, "What do you wish to speak to me  
about?"  
  
Lacroix looked a bit out of sorts, but answered  
quickly. "I simply want you to answer a question."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"Did he meet her? Did he have a smile on his face  
when he went? Did he go with her?" The questions  
were asked in an anxious rush which bellied the cool  
exterior.   
  
But then, Giles realized, it didn't. The exterior was  
a mask. The coldness a defense. Those hands, which  
he had assumed were clenched in power were actually  
white at the knuckles, and clenched in an effort to  
hold in his emotions. That face, so pale, was pale  
from weariness, and grief, from holding it in so hard  
that not a trace of the his pain would squeeze out  
into view. And that was what filled this creature:  
pain. Pain so intense, multiplied by the need for  
controling the emotion. It was not whimsy which had  
made this LaCroix come, but a deep seated need to ease  
his pain, fear, grief, and even his guilt.  
  
"I am told" answered the Watcher slowly, "That he was  
taken into the light by a female spirit which he  
called 'Nat' and that he did indeed breath his last  
with a smile on his face."  
  
Giles felt the release even if there were no signs on  
the outside other than a curt nod. He had no time to  
ask anything, though, because the figure disappeared a  
second later. Giles stared after him for a second,  
then turned around and slowly kneeled to the ground  
once more and pushed in "Rottinghamton's Occult  
Annecdotes" with a mechanical movement.  
  
"All in all," he said to himself after a minute "a  
very good week."  
  
Fin!!!  
  



End file.
